


Hanahaki

by lilies_for_every_fandom



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Minor Aang/Katara, Minor Mai/Zuko, Time Skips, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilies_for_every_fandom/pseuds/lilies_for_every_fandom
Summary: When Zuko comes down with a strange illness, Katara comes to heal him. But their reencounter opens new and old wounds that have no cure.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21
Collections: The No "I Love You" Challenge





	1. Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever, so don't be too mean but also please give me all of your thoughts, the good and the bad. I need all the constructive criticism I can. Thanks!

Nothing was more miserable than being a sick groom.

Zuko was finally relieved of his Fire Lord duties at King Kuei’s meeting after a long meeting, but now the Fire Nation seamstresses want to make time to take his measurements for his wedding kimono. He should be on his way this instant, high in spirits.

But all he could do was lean against a pillar with burning lungs.

Mai told the palace doctor to come over and check on Zuko, who insisted that he was fine. Mai, however, was not convinced with how harsh his coughs were. The doctor could not find what in the world was wrong with him. He advised Zuko to drink hot ginger tea with honey until more doctors can observe him. 

But now Zuko felt like he was about to pass out from his body heating up, which made him think maybe it’s just the heat of the sun. So, instead of going to the fitting room on the other side of the palace, he went into the gardens to get fresh air.

For some reason, his illness has made him hyper-aware of his settings. He notices just how empty the palace is. He notices just how tedious his Fire Lord duties are. He notices the quietness of the Earth Kingdom palace garden, how the flowers blossom slowly as if they were in painful loneliness, how the fire lilies seem to resemble someone from the distant past. 

He is also more aware of how hollow and lost he feels like there is a hole in his heart sucking away all his energy and the little happiness he has left. Zuko has always been good at hiding these things, of pushing them away and burying them so deep that he can’t find them anymore. He does it because that’s what is expected of him, it’s for the best, for the greater good.

At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

But this void seems to get stronger and bigger by the day. It seems like a piece of him is being spiraled down into nothingness. It takes control of him, but he can’t do anything about it. It almost reminds him of Ka—

_ No, _ he tells himself, _ don’t say her name. _

Saying her name was too much. Everything about  _ her  _ was too much, especially when he was expected him to show up at the celebration tonight. 

He hated treating her name like it was a sin, that it should never be uttered or even thought of. In reality, he wanted to say her name. He wants to scream it from the rooftops and sing it all day long. He wanted it to spill freely from his lips like it was the finest silk, and for her to eat it up by kissing him. Just she did all those years ago.

_ Do not remember, forget, forget,  _ he repeated to himself like he’d done a thousand times before as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

He was marrying Mai now, he should be happy. She was the perfect woman for Fire Lady; calm, poised and only spoke when spoken to. Didn’t ask too many questions, didn’t pressure him. It was a companionable and easy relationship; it was safe and secure, just a dip of the toe in the deep sea. Exactly what the Fire Nation needed. 

And  _ she  _ was with Aang. They seemed happy enough, way happier than him and Mai, which was a good sign. It didn’t matter, whatever happened between them, she was now going to be the wi—

Zuko felt his skin be plagued with goosebumps and he suddenly felt like his lungs were being filled with water. His stomach did a somersault, which caused his throat to give out dry, brittle coughs. He covered his mouth with his hands, the dizziness returning. 

When he looked down, his hands were littered with sapphire flower petals and stained with what appeared to be blue blood.

Zuko stared in horror as he took in the sight. He quickly dipped his hands in the pond in an attempt to get rid of the evidence.

He then got up and started to run. He ran down into the halls, trying to find the doctor’s office. But his dizziness was causing him to slip out of consciousness. His breath heaved as he tried to continue to run, despite several servants calling out to him. He collapsed on the stone floor with a thud, feeling an all too familiar feeling.

~

When the servants told Mai what had happened, she demanded them to get Katara. One of them hit the streets of the heart of Ba Sing Se, finding the master in her inn with the Avatar. 

Katara knew something was off when a member of the palace came for them before the party, where she and Aang would meet Mai and Zuko.

When the servant informed Katara of the Fire Lord’s current condition, she hesitated to accept. Not because she didn’t want to heal Zuko, because she’d heal all the bruises that she’d caused him and heal the nation that would never accept them together if she could.

It was because the last time she saw him, she knew she left him high and dry. She was already feeling nervous about seeing him later on that day and she stressed on what she would say to him. At least at the party, there’d be a crowd to drown out the tension.

But she would be with Zuko all alone, not surrounded by family and friends, She’d likely have to heal with his bare chest exposed, just like she did at the Ag—

A chill shook her spine. 

_ Don’t think about that now, _ she told herself.

She’d be so close to him that it would be more than intimate, it’d be impossible. They’d have to talk because she wouldn’t be able to bear the awkwardness either. She felt like she was suffocating, being pulled by both arms. It felt too similar to when she had to choose to heal Zuko and get risked getting killed by Azula or fight Azula and let him lay there.

_ But saving him was never a choice,  _ she thought,  _ just how him taking the lightning for me was never a quest _ ion.

“It seems like you should check on him, Katara. Sounds like Zuko is either dying or being dramatic again,” Aang laughed out, sounding like he was still twelve rather than twenty-one.

She gave him a small smile and was still bargaining the pros and cons of going. This might be the only alone time that she would have with Zuko. She had to apologize to him for what she had done to him. 

Katara fetched her water skin and nodded to the servant who took her to the boy whom she left heartbroken.


	2. A Reencounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko reveals the reality of his illness to Katara.

Katara tip-toed her away to the green bed that Zuko laid on.

She got down on her knees at the side and brushed a strand of long hair behind his ear, noting his ragged snoring. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Katara gravitated towards his left side and she gently placed her fingers on the marred flesh.

His serene expression contradicted his angry scar, just how his pale skin and her brown skin contradicted each other. They would not look good together, Katara tries to convince herself, and that he and Mai go well together, that they complement each other, that they would live in peace by not challenging convenience.

She snapped back into reality and opened her skin, calling water to glove her hands. She placed them cautiously on his neck, recalling the servant telling her about Zuko’s rough coughs, and was attentive to not put too much pressure into her grip. 

The water glowed bright blue, illuminating shadows on Zuko’s face. All she could look at she put all her energy into easing the inflammation inside his throat was his face. She noted his delicate yet sharp features and couldn’t help but imagine a smile on him because she hasn’t seen one on him in so long.

Or maybe it's because she _hasn’t_ seen him in so long.

She kept her water-coated hands on his throat for five minutes, but it didn’t seem to do anything. His forehead still felt hot and his snoring still sounded like there was mucus stuck inside of him.

_Of course,_ Katara thought to herself as a lightbulb went off in her head, _he has phlegm._

In determination, Katara took off the covers that Zuko was wrapped in. But the buildup inside of her died down as she laid eyes on the star-shaped scar at the middle of his torso, right in between his lungs.

Katara suddenly felt ashamed. She was so unfair and cruel to him. She didn’t feel like she deserved to see the mark that she had left on him, even if it wasn’t exactly her fault. 

A compressed cough came from Zuko as he turned his head around, his unscarred side facing up. Katara decided to hurry because being around him was _too much_. 

She coated her hands with fresh water from her skin and placed them on the lightning scar, fruitlessly hoping that maybe her healing abilities would stitch up his emotional wounds as well as get the mucus out.

In search of relieving herself, Katara put the water from her left hand back into the skin and reached out for Zuko’s hand. 

She intertwined her fingers into his and squeezed them, feeling their familiar warmth that comforted her more than any words could. 

_I’m sorry, Zuko,_ came across her mind as her eyes started to gloss up, _you didn’t deserve to be hurt by the girl you risked everything to protect._

Zuko’s eyes snapped open and he sat up all of sudden, his breathing fast as if he were gasping for air after nearly being drowned.

Katara jerked back in panic and automatically recoiled her hand from Zuko’s to hide it behind the mattress. 

They both stared at each other with wide eyes, their hearts hammering in their chests. 

Katara’s mind told her to run, to be smart and just leave before things escalated. It was the logical thing to do considering that she and Zuko are engaged to different people. 

But her heart wanted to stay, to see if he looked at her like that. Or if they could both find solace in this complicated spider-web that she weaved between them. 

“I-I wasn’t expecting you…” Zuko considered with caution, “w-what happened?”

Katara still had a gloved hand on Zuko’s scar and as soon as he looked down at it, she flustered and put the water back into her skin, putting the cap on it.

“I, uh, wasn’t expecting to be here, either,” Katara admitted with a weak smile as she fiddled with her fingers on her lap. “One of your servants came to tell me that you needed a healer.”

“Right, I’ve been sick,” he sighed as he sat up with a twitch.

Katara watched Zuko’s golden eyes examine her face, almost as if he couldn’t believe that she was there in the flesh, breathing and alive and more beautiful than he last remembered. 

“Were-were you holding my hand?” He asked, feeling a cold handprint left on his hand.

Embarrassment and panic rose in Katara’s chest. She slowly started to back away, prepared to make a run for it. 

_I knew this was a mistake,_ she thought to herself, _why are you always this stupid?_

“I-I,” she stuttered with a hard swallow,” I should get going.”

She got up and rushed for the door, but a hand on her wrist held her back.

“Please, stay,” Zuko’s voice trembled as Katara whipped her head back to face him.

His pleading eyes and desperate expression mirrored the distraught teenage boy under the green crystals.

Zuko didn’t want her to go away again, for he didn’t know if he would have this chance again.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” Katara stated dryly. Zuko let go of his grip and she sat back down in her original position.

A long, awkward silence ensued as they both avoided looking at each other. It was funny, they used to be joint at the hip, but now they were like strangers after walking the very fine line.

“Do you feel okay?” Katara asked. 

“Yes,” Zuko answered, “I feel fine, a bit better actually.”

“Healing your chest worked, then?”

“I suppose, yes.”

“Do you want me to do it again?”

“Okay.”

He laid back down and let Katara put her coated hands on his chest. It glowed and shadows were once again cascaded on their faces. They stayed in companionable silence, but Katara felt like she had to say something, that something had to come about of the unspoken things between them.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” She asked a bit too brashly.

Zuko’s eyebrows rose and he looked down at Katara, who was staring him dead in the eye.

“There is nothing to say.”

“You were the one who told me to stay, and I know it’s not just because you wanted me to cure you.”

“You came even though I didn’t personally ask you, and I also know you didn’t come here just to heal me.”

He got her there, making her all tongue-tied. Maybe this truly was a mistake.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” she said so quietly that she barely heard herself.

“For what?” He asked, speaking ever so gently.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” She questioned as her face deadpanned.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, Katara,” Zuko said, his voice going soft as he said her name, “you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“How can you say that?” She pried, tears threatening to spill. “I kissed you, ran away, and then wrote you that stupid letter!”

“It’s okay, I don—”

“No, it’s not okay!” She exploded, forcing her water back into the skin and her brows furrowed. “I pushed you out of my life like that would fix everything!” 

She continued. “It wasn’t fair to tell you to stop talking to me, and I’ve regretted it ever since.”

Katara’s breath heaved as she started to choke on tears while putting her elbows on the mattress and holding her head in her hands.

“You did hurt me,” Zuko reaffirmed before he sat back up again, “you’ve left me with an emptiness and confusion that has been drowning me for a long time.”

A sniffle.

“But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop wanting you.”

Katara looked up at him through her fingers and saw Zuko with a tiny smile curled onto his lips. 

“I-I don’t know how you can forgive me,” Katara said, wiping tears away, “even I hate myself for it.”

“Because I knew you were only trying to protect the both of us,” Zuko explained, “you’ve spent your whole life sacrificing yourself for the sake of others.”

“That doesn’t excuse anything.”

“I’m not saying it does,” he backtracks, “but your sacrifices always ended in you getting hurt back.”

“I didn’t want to add onto that load,” he continued, “so, when I got your letter, I just followed your wishes.”

Katara sat there silent in disbelief, still amazed at his selflessness and unconditionality despite displaying it right in front of her countless times.

“You listened to me for the same reasons you saved me from the lightning?” She asked in curiosity, her voice breaking. 

“Even more than that,” he corrected her, “I couldn’t imagine a world without you, but if a world without you meant that you didn’t have to suffer, I would take the bolt.”

Katara didn’t know what to say or how to respond. All she felt next was Zuko’s hand lowering hers and then lacing them together. 

She looked up and he looked at her like she was the stars and the moon of his universe. 

It was such a shame that she could never have him, or that he could never have her. That they’d have to live the rest of their lives without each other. 

_But at least he’s mine in this moment_ , Katara thought.

Out of nowhere, she wrapped her arms around his neck, plopping herself into the mattress and embracing him like he was turning into dust and disappearing into the wind. 

Zuko hugged her back, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her in closer. Their chests were so close that they could feel each other’s ribs. The smell of her hair and the smell of his skin were intoxicating. They both felt safe in each other’s touch, shielded from the cold world that they lived in. 

If only they could stay like this forever.

But they couldn’t, which is why Zuko had to tell her this right now.

“Katara,” he whispered into her ear, “I have hanahaki.”

“Hanahaki?” She parroted as he loosened the hug to look at her in the eye.

“Yes, I coughed up flowers,” he said, “no one else knows and it has to stay that way.”

“Wait, hanahaki is real?” Katara perplexedly asked, “I thought that was just some Fire Nation metaphor or euphemism.”

“No, it isn’t,” Zuko said as he felt dizzy again, “it’s real and there is only one cure for me.”

Katara stated in horror while her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. 

She’d read about hanahaki disease in the many books that she requested from Zuko so she could learn more about the Fire Nation other than war. It was caused by an unrequited relationship. There were two cures to hanahaki; one she could not give and the other she could give, but it would not be an easy one.

If this was his wish, then all she could do was grant it with a heavy heart. 

~

None of them could say a word about what was going to happen.

Katara told the servants that Zuko was feeling somewhat and that she’d return after the party to heal him. Zuko said he was fine and he stopped coughing so much, so they dragged him to the seamstresses to get his measurements. 

Katara watched as the two female servants dragged him away, almost making him stumble. 

“Thank you, Katara,” a monotone but feminine voice said behind her.

Katara turned around and saw Mai, her model kimono with pins around her slim waist, clearly still in the process of trimming.

“Don’t mention it, Mai,” Katara said with a smile and a Fire Nation bow.

Mai reciprocated it with the elegant grace that a soon-to-be Fire Lady should have.

“I’ll see you tonight?” she asked not expecting an answer, her face as emotionless as ever.

“Of course,” Katara reaffirmed, really wanting to drop this I-got-everything-under-control act.

“Until then,” Mai said with her tight face loosening up a bit.

“Until then,” Katara repeated before Mai turned her heel and walked away, her petite figure being submerged into the shadows of the dark hall.

A sigh of relief.

Now that she was alone, there was nothing more she wanted to than to run back to Zuko, back into his arms. But she could not. He was busy at the moment and Aang would be wondering where she was when the party would start soon. 

But Katara was far from being festive.

She ventured on her way back to the inn, denying palanquin and carriage rides from the outdoor servants as she walked out of the palace.

Today was a long, long day and so much happened that Katara didn’t even know how to process it.

She felt like a message in a bottle, all her wants and dreams rolled up inside her, going from her stomach to her throat. She tried not to care, tried to bury all her bubbling emotions.

She couldn’t care, she couldn’t afford to care, It would cost her everything she has to care about him. The world didn’t care, society didn’t care. So why shouldn’t she? Why shouldn’t she just numb herself like she’s done a thousand times before?

Katara knew the answer, but it would be far too painful to come to terms with it.

_But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, right?_

She always hoped that one day she and Zuko would get together. She still hoped their reconciliation was bound to happen somewhere or sometime despite being married to other people. She never knew when or how, but she had faith that the universe who brought them together would somehow find a way to do it again. Maybe when all they had left was each other, when they were old and grey, where they would be free to be with each other.

Or maybe they’d end up together in their next life. Their reincarnated souls made of fire and water and for each other would be destined to meet each other again. The story of two people who defied the illusion of separation through understanding could be reunited again. Sure, it wouldn’t be exactly them per se, but at least it would be something. 

But now she wasn’t sure if any of that would happen. All of that now seemed to be wishful thinking.

She’d always had hope, even if there was only darkness. She has put so much faith in hope ever since she was a little girl. When her mother was killed, when her father left, when she was the only waterbender of the Southern Tribe, when Azula conquered Ba Sing Se and nearly killed Aang _and_ Zuko, she was always hopeful for the best and hope seemed to reward her for her faith.

She wondered how all of the sudden hope could be so cruel, to give her oxygen only to cut it off when she needed it the most. 

Katara felt betrayed and angry, hot tears stinging at her eyes. She was already halfway home and she made her feet walk faster, her shoulders starting to tremble.

She thought back at the bouquet of fire lilies that Zuko sent her a couple of weeks after she sent him that letter. She assumed that he got the letter around the same time she got the bouquet because they were starting to wither.

Upon receiving the lilies, a pang of regret crawled its way into her chest. She couldn’t believe how she kissed him and the only thing to acknowledge it was her telling him to stay away. She couldn’t believe how stupid she was, to reject him in such a cruel way even though she wanted to be with him too.

An epiphany suddenly hit her.

_Did I cause this…?_ She wondered.

Hanahaki was a result of unrequited feelings, and that’s exactly what she did.

Yes, yes, it had to be her fault. That was the only logical reason for this. There was no way it could’ve been hope or the universe or the spirits. They couldn’t have failed her this badly knowing all of her deepest secrets and wants.

A sob escaped from her mouth and she became even angrier, but at herself now. What a coward she’d been to not at least offer a more comforting resolution to their forbidden desires. She couldn’t even do that for one of her closest friends.

“Katara?” She heard Aang call out as she walked into their room in the inn.

She ignored him and locked herself in the bedroom, sliding down onto the floor in a puddle of her own tears.


	3. The Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Katara do what they always wanted to do.

Zuko sighed at his reflection wrapped in a kimono.

  


During his fitting, he tried so hard to accept his fate, to accept the fact that everything will change forever.

  


Zuko figured that if he could survive being a child soldier, rebuild a broken world, multiple assiantaion attempts and a flame to the face that he has to have the courage to work himself through this.

  


It was either that, or he crumbled completely.

  


He’d rather not have the latter because it would only make things harder than they already were.

  


Zuko shifted, noticing how tight his obi felt around his waist when he didn’t have the correct posture. 

  


How did he always end up like this? He was either getting hurt by others, the world, or by his own hands. It seemed like destiny was hellbent on making sure he never had an easy life.

  


But really, Zuko never wanted an easy life. He never liked things to come easy to him.

  


Maybe that’s why his feelings for Katara never went away, because being with her would  _ never  _ be easy. Her smart mouth, her amazing stubbornness, her intense passion and quench for justice. She was his worst distraction but also the most marvelous muse. 

  


He would have to struggle and fight the rest of his life in order to be with her, especially in the Fire Nation. But it’d be worth the strife because there is nothing more he’d rather want.

  


Which is why he had to let her go.

  


At twenty-five years old, Zuko has learned that one does not always get what they want because what you want isn’t always what you need. You need to discover who you truly are in order to be unclouded from the biases of your selfish wants.

  


And that you’d had to do that for the ones closest to you.

  


Zuko has lived 8 years without Katara returning his feelings, so can live an eternity without it. He’s never asked anything from her, firstly because he probably knows deep inside that she is too good for him. He doesn’t deserve Katara, a woman so determined and hopeful that she made herself a legend. 

  


Zuko stares at the long sleeves and its brilliant red silk, looking at himself as a mere boy rather than the all-powerful, soon-to-be-married Fire Lord. 

  


Secondly, because he owes nothing to her. No apologies or tears should be done by her for him. He knows that them not being together would be the best for the delicate balance of their world. As much as he would choose Katara over and over again in every lifetime, he would always respect her choices even if it meant they’ll hurt him.

  


He felt like he was accepting death, or that a part of his soul was going to die. But he had to do this. There was no other option.

  


But he wished that he could have her one more time so that he could remember her forever while he still could. One last hug, one last kiss, one last dance.

  


A knock at the door pushed Zuko out of his thoughts.

  


“Fire Lord Zuko, the party will commence shortly,” a servant’s voice muffled, “do you wish for me to aid you in dressing?”

  


“Um, no thank you,” Zuko responded awkwardly, “I will dress myself.”

  


“As you wish, Fire Lord Zuko,” he heard the servant said, almost imagining her bowing.

  


Zuko sighed again and started unraveling his kimono, dreading the heaviness of his formal attire.

  


~

  


At the party, sophisticated laughs and the smell of expensive perfume hung in the air. The ballroom of the palace was filled to its maximum capacity with Ba Sing Se nobles and Fire Nation elites.

  


Zuko wished that Sokka or Toph were here, they’d make things less stiff and brighten his mood. But he knew his friends were not interested in attending petty parties meant to simply appease the higher-ups.

  


King Kuei called everyone’s attention to make a toast, but Zuko couldn’t pay any attention. He was too busy looking over Mai’s head staring at Katara and Aang, who seemed to be discussing something. 

  


Aang looked at her with pleading eyes and worried brows, him holding her hands inside of his. It appeared that he was trying to get Katara, who looked away and shook her head in dismissal, to talk to him. Katara looked stunning as always, wearing a baby blue hanfu that was decorated with lavender patterns and her hair cascaded in waves down her back with a pink tulip in the same style that she had at the Jasmine Dragon after the war.

  


King Kuei finished his toast and the crowd cheered with applauses insinuating. People stood from their seats and pumped their glasses in the air.

  


“Zuko, are you okay?” Mai, who sat in the seat across from, asked with a slightly suspicious expression.

  


“I just…” he stammered, “I just need some air.”

  


Zuko excused himself and got up as Earth Kingdom’s finest musicians started to excite the crowd.

  


He felt overwhelmed, which could either be from the huge crowd or his illness. He went upstairs, climbing the small spiral staircase that led to the rooftop.

  


From up here, Zuko could see the entire pathway leading into the palace and could oversee the thousands over other luxury homes that made up the Upper Ring. The dark heavens hid some of the buildings, some of which were slightly lit up. He glared up at the moon, high in the nocturnal sky all alone with only the distant stars to keep her company.

  


He closed his eyes as he took in a deep breath of the fresh, cool air. He exhaled, feeling a bit lighter. But the cold air triggered his lungs to cough.

  


As he covered his mouth with a fist, he heard footsteps behind him and supposed that Mai had found him again. She always seemed to know the corners that he would escape to.

  


But when the person stood next to him, it was not her.

  


“Hi, Zuko,” Katara said a bit timidly, like she was afraid her voice would break the fragile thread between the two of them.

  


“I saw you come up here all of a sudden,” elaborated, “I figured I’d come to check up on you.”

  


Zuko turned his head around to look at Katara, meeting her dazzling blue eyes. 

  


“I think I’m the one who should be doing that,” he says, “I’ll end up remembering nothing while you’ll be left with everything.”

  


Silence and two heartbeats. 

  


“Zuko,” Katara started as she stared back to the view below, “I made you sick.”

  


He hated seeing her beat herself up for things that are not herself.

  


“If I just had let you down less cruelly or more respectfully,” she said looking down, “maybe you wouldn’t be going through this.”

  


“Katara, stop it,” Zuko said gently, “I already told you it’s not your fault.”

  


“But what if it is?!” Katara exclaimed with an abrupt jerk. “I already hurt you, what makes you think I couldn’t do it again?”

  


He could see a bit of his younger self in Katara. Always blaming himself for being useless and dishonorable, taking the abuse from his father. He would say that he deserved it and that only led him to be angrier, descending him into an abyss of despair.

  


He couldn’t let the same happen to her.

  


“Katara, will you dance with me?” Zuko asked out of the blue.

  


Katara dumbfounded and her face fell with confusion. 

  


“Why are you asking me this out of nowhere?”

  


“What? I can’t ask for a dance now?” He asked with a slight grin.

  


Katara rolled her eyes at his amusement. 

  


“Fine,” she breathed out.

  


He offered his hand out to her and with care, she took it.

  


They held each other’s hand and with their free ones, Zuko found her waist and Katara landed around his shoulder. Katara let her head rest on his chest, which made her hear his raspy breathing more clearly. It wasn’t the typical ballroom dance that was filled with energy; it was more slow and graceful as they danced in a circle.

  


For now, it didn’t matter who they belonged to or the stresses of the world. All that mattered was that they were in each other’s arms.

  


“Please stop blaming yourself for everything, Katara,” Zuko started in a low tone, “you can’t control everything.”

  


“I wish I could,” she murmured into his chest.

  


“That makes two of us,” Zuko said as Katara’s curls tickled his neck, “but no one can, so cut yourself some slack.”

  


“But you can’t deny that I was cruel to you.”

  


“That doesn’t matter,” he said, “you don’t have to walk on eggshells when it comes to me.” 

  


“You already blame yourself too much for things that you could have no way of preventing,” he mumbled into her hair, “Let me spare you even more burden.”

  


“You sure are asking me to do a lot for you nowadays,” Katara joked and he could feel her smile on his clothes.

  


“Well, what else can I do?” Zuko shrugged. “Besides, you’re too good for me.”

  


“It’s funny you should say that,” she said, “I was also thinking that I didn’t deserve you.”

  


“I guess we’re both just blinded by each other a little,” he said with a slight chuckle that was like a melody to her ears.

  


Katara slowly pulled away from the embrace and stopped the dance, looking up at Zuko with searching eyes.

  


“Can you promise me something?”

  


“Of course,” Zuko said while he took her hands once again and held them together to his chest.

  


“Will you be mine forever?” She asked sincerely.

  


“No,” Zuko answered simply, “because forever is such an empty promise. It’s promised so many times that it’s lost meaning.”

  


Katara looked at him with a perplexed face like she couldn’t understand where he was going with this.

  


“But I can promise you that for as long as I live and for as long as I am by your side, I’ll always be yours,” Zuko said, looking down at Katara adoringly.

  


She looked at him with big eyes, like he was a never-ending surprise.

  


“When did you become so suave at flirting?” She asked while a mischievous smirk curled onto her lips.

  


“I wasn’t flirting, I was speaking from the heart,” Zuko corrected, “but I’ve always been a smooth-talker.”

  


“Oh yeah, that’s why you said ‘You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun’ to me in the middle of fighting, right?” She teased with a quirked brow.

  


“Are you always going to use that against me?” Zuko asked tiredly but with a hint of humor.

  


“Perhaps,” Katara answered with a small giggle.

  


They both stared at each other, taking in the other with their bellies filled with laughter. Katara noticed Zuko’s face blanched and before she could ask what was wrong, he collapsed into her arms.

  


She caught him despite almost tripping from his weight. She had to get him to a private room, even if it wasn’t his own. She had to get her water skin, she had to do what she had planned. He had to live.

  


Katara knew that now was the time to do the surgery, the time to heal him while she got bruised.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading if you'd made it this far! I'm not sure whether or not I want to finish this because this is already pretty long, so I wanna hear from y'all if you want me to continue.


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